A Different War
by Bradykins98
Summary: Nick "Fang" Walker, Force Recon Marine, Silver Star, Purple Heart, a career soldier in the making. After saving the life of his best friend in Iraq, he meets his skydiving instructor friend Max. But with a budding relationship, a continuing career as a Marine, suicide bombers, turned Marines looking for revenge and jealous ex's, hows a guy meant to cope? FAX
1. Chapter 1: Out of The Frying Pan

A Different War

Chapter 1: Out of the Frying Pan

Nick had always wondered what battle would actually be like. He hadn't pictured it to be like this. Yes, he had imagined the heat, the rush of adrenalin, the crack of enemy bullets whizzing by. But he hadn't imagined the screaming, the cursing and the sound of grown men crying for their mothers as explosions ripped all around them. No, reality was different from his imagination when it came to combat.

"Delta Six Niner, we are in need of immediate support, we have multiple wounded and KIA, how copy, over?" He asked over the radio, to Captain Batchelder, his company's commanding officer. His voice was hoarse from shouting and sweat and dirt covered his face, a mix of terror and anger on his normally unemotional face.

"Delta Six Charlie, we are Oscar Mike to your current position with War Pig, hold current position. ETA fifteen mikes. I say again, hold your position Delta Six Charlie. Out." Was the response over the radio, Batchelder's voice calming Nick down. Fifteen minutes, that's all they had to go and then they would be out of that hellhole.

"Don't worry guys; the cavalry will be here in fifteen minutes. Just hold out till then!" Nick then shouts to his squad, who are busy holding off the seemingly endless horde of insurgents who were out for US Force Recon Marine blood. There are several cheers and sighs of relief from the Marines, all of whom have never experienced combat before this.

An insurgent poped up from cover with an RPG, and Nick raised his M4 to open fire. He flicked the fire selector to semi-automatic, released the safety catch and squeezed the trigger three times. Bang, bang, bang. He saw through his red dot scope that he killed the man, the bullets ripping through his chest. He didn't spare a second to think about it, but instead roared "Yeah, get some, that's why you don't mess with Force Recon ragheads!" James Griffiths, known to his friends as Iggy, chuckled next to him as he fired the M203 under slung grenade launcher that was attached to his M16A4, sending several enemy soldiers flying. He grinned at the explosion, fist pumped the air, and screamed a _hu-rah_ in triumph. Ig always did like explosions.

That's when Iggy got shot in the shoulder. He screamed in agony and fell to the ground. Nick grabbed him by his backpack and dragged him behind cover. He gave him a morphine dose for the pain, causing him to fall silent. Nick then proceeded to wrap a bandage around the wound. He looked to the rest of his squad. The last member left standing apart from him and Ig, Private Ari Batchelder, son of the Captain, had taken a bullet through the chest, and was gasping for air as he choked on his own blood. The bullet must have punctured at least one lung, Nick thought.

He hefted Iggy over his shoulder, whilst firing his M4 one handed, somehow managing to hit another insurgent in the head, killing him instantly. He turned to Ari, who was frantically firing his pistol at the oncoming enemies, trying desperately to survive. The look in his eyes told Nick that he knew what his next move would be.

"I'm sorry." Was all that Nick could manage. He then turned away from Ari, away from his look of utter horror and betrayal, and ran into the narrow alleys and back streets, hoping that at least him and his friend can survive.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in California, Maximum Ride was in a plane, thousands of feet above the ground, waiting to jump out of it. The man sitting next to her looked absolutely petrified; pale, clammy hands and sweat trickling down across his brow clear indicators. Max inwardly rolled her eyes; not being able to tolerate people who clearly weren't up for stuff was one of her bad attributes.

"Don't worry; you'll be fine when we're out there. I know what I'm doing." She said, trying to calm him down. It works, and he relaxes visibly, although his eyes look a bit too low for her liking, causing her to glare at him. "My face isn't there." She said sternly, earning his swift apology and a slight smile. Normally, she might make a lapse of judgement like that slide, but since they would be strapped together for a five-thousand foot drop down to Earth, she couldn't be too careful.

Finally after around a minute of checking equipment and gear, the red light turned on, and they walked to the door. He was breathing heavily, although looked ready to jump now. He was lucky, in a tandem jump, the person on the back, who was Max, does all the work. The front person just enjoys the ride.

The red light changed to green, and they leapt out of the plane. The man whooped with joy, and Max grinned, both getting the incredible adrenalin rush that skydiving provided. The altimeter that Max carried showed their altitude, which was steadily dropping. At one thousand feet, Max opened the parachute, suddenly slowing their fall to a crawl. The man had been screaming the whole time, and now he finally fell silent. Well thank god for that, Max thought.

The landing was a little rougher than usual. But at least there were no injuries, the man pointed out later, a grin on his face as he received the video that was recorded as they fell. Max sighed, slumping in her chair. She hadn't expected running a skydiving company to be as hard as this four years ago. But, they had done well, making a name for themselves in the business, and they got clients from all over America regularly, many of them on their second or third visit. Skydiving was addictive, when you got used to the feeling.

The door opened, and Nudge, Angel, Gaz and Ella walked in. Nudge was Max's co-owner of the company, and had been one of her best friends since middle school. Ella, Max's adoptive sister, Gaz and Angel were all instructors for the company, and were all best friends with Max as well. Angel and Gaz, more commonly known as the Gasman thanks to his near-nuclear farts, were siblings, and you could tell, with their blonde hair and blue eyes. Max had another close friend, James "Iggy" Griffiths, who was serving with the US Marine Force Recon in Iraq. They used to date, but had decided being friends was better, and he eventually found love with Ella.

"Hey, how was your clients today Max?" Ella asked as she walked in. Max shrugged her shoulders, too tired to answer. Gaz chuckled, and asked,

"One of them days huh?" Max simply nodded in agreement, causing them all to laugh.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Max picked it up, and answered with the usual cheery

"Hello, this is Sky Ride industries. This is Max speaking, how may I help?" She heard sobbing on the other line. "Hello, are you all right?" Max asks, drawing in everyones attention in on the conversation.

"Oh god, Max, thank god its you." The voice was her adopted mother, Valencia Martinez. Max frowned, her mother always kept her cool, so what was wrong?

"Mom, are you okay, has someone hurt you?" She asks, getting more worried by the second. Oh god, please don't let him be dead, please don't let him be dead, Max thought.  
"It's James." Those two words felt like a hammer blow to Max's stomach. Ella would go nuts. She could barely cope now.

"Mom, what happened? Is Ig allright?" Ella looked shocked, and terrified, slowly sinking into a chair, shaking with silent sobs.

"Max, Iggy is Missing in Action."

**Authors Note: Thought I'd leave the first chapter on a cliffhanger. I hope you realise that Nick is Fang; just I choose not to use his nickname when narrating for him. Please review, favourite and follow for more. I hope you enjoyed this and keep checking to see more. Just to let you know, here is a quick glossary of all the terminology I might have used in this chapter just so you understand it, and please remember I am British, so any mistakes I make please correct in a review:**

**Delta Six Niner, Delta Six Charlie, War Pig: Call signs, or radio names for Batchelder (Jeb's) and Fang's units. This is used on radio to not cause confusion between units. War Pig in the story is the call sign for an M1A1 Abrams tank.**

**Mikes: Minutes.**

**How copy: Do you understand.**

**Over: Means you have finished what you are saying on the radio.**

**Out: Means you have finished the conversation on the radio.**

**Force Recon: The deep reconnaissance and direct action Special Forces unit of the USMC. They are total badasses.**

**M4: A select-fire, gas operated rifle. It is a shorter version of the famous M16, firing the 5.56mm round. It is used by all of America's military forces, and is a popular choice for military and civilian shooters.**

**RPG: Rocket Proppelled Grenade. Basically a grenade with a big rocket on it, meaning you don't have to throw it. **

**M16A4: The latest version of the M16, in use since Vietnam. It fires the 5.56mm round, same as the M4. It has recently replaced the M16A2 in the USMC.**

**M203: A 40mm grenade launcher that can be placed on the bottom of rifles to add a little boom power. **

**Altimeter: A device used to measure the altitude than something is currently at. **

**Disclamer: I do not own anything that is under copyright that I mention in this story.**


	2. Chapter 2: Into the Fire

A Different War

Chapter 2: Into the Fire 

Nick was terrified. He was half carrying, half supporting Iggy as he limped away from the gunfire. An RPG had exploded near them, a piece of shrapnel hitting Ig's knee, meaning he had to limp, slowing their escape. Another piece of shrapnel had hit Nick just above his left eyebrow; now the left side of his face was covered with blood.

"Come on Ig. Not much further now." He pants. Iggy was fading fast, and unless he got him out of there, he probably wouldn't make it.

The pair had been on the run for two days now. Both sides were beginning to lose hope on their survival. Their radios had been damaged beyond repair. The pair of Marines had no way of contacting help. The ammo was running dangerously low, with only two magazines for the M4 and M16A4 between them, three magazines for the Kimber ICQB .45 calibre pistols that both Nick and Iggy have; as well as their bayonets. It was unlikely that they could survive another fire fight.

Finally, Nick spotted a way out of there. Alone, at the side of the road, sat an old, slightly rusted red car. Nick grinned, realising the opportunity. He carried Iggy to the car, and placed him down, so that his back was leaning against one of the back doors. He handed him the M4. "If anyone comes around that corner with a gun, you shoot them, okay Ig?" The response was a drowsy nod. "Just don't walk into the light; I still need you down here." He tries to joke. Ig smiles faintly, before wincing with pain as he shifted his bad leg.

"Fang, if I die here, I want you to tell my girlfriend that I love her." Fang was Nick's nickname, due to his usually silent, loner nature, like a wolf.

"No need man, because you're not going to die. You'll tell her that yourself."

"Damn Fang, you're turning into Rambo, only I can understand you." That raised a nervous laugh from Nick. That conversation did turn a little stereotypical.

Nick smashed the window to the driver's seat out, then reached in and opened the door from the inside. The keys were left in the car, and he picked them up, unlocking the car. He then carried Iggy round to the front passenger's seat, and gently placed him in, although he couldn't help it when Ig winced in pain as he swung his legs in. He closed the door and sat in the driver's seat.

It was that moment they just happened to get spotted by three young boys. They began shouting and running away from them, trying to attract attention. Nick couldn't speak Arabic, but he could give what they were saying a good guess. He moved more frantically after that. "Fang, we need to move." Iggy sounded worried.

"I know, just give me a second." Nick replied anxiously. He inserted the keys and started the engine. It spluttered and died after around three seconds. "Crap!" Nick shouted, hitting the steering wheel. That's when Iggy knew they were in trouble. Fang _never_ swore. Ever. He tried the engine again, thankfully, this time it started.

Then the young boys returned, this time along with a man armed with an AK. Nick hit the accelerator, and the car revved into life. The man raised his rifle and fired, bullets spraying everywhere. The pair ducked behind the dashboard. When the man had fired his entire magazine into them, Iggy popped up and killed him with a single headshot.

Nick shifted gears, the car quickly gaining speed. The narrow alleys and sharp turns weren't helping matters. Every so often Nick would misjudge a turn and slam into the wall. The car was, thankfully, very resilient, despite it's appearance.

They turned a corner, this time not crashing, and sped down a long straight road. It looked like a highway. "Well, I think we're in the clear." Nick finally said, grinning, a strange thing to do for him, from ear to ear. Suddenly, a makeshift roadblock drew closer. It was manned by two men, both wearing local clothes and armed with AK's. As they sped closer, Iggy pulled out his M16A4, and aimed it at them. Time seemed to slow down as the two men aimed their rifles and fired at the car. Iggy fired back, killing one. But the other continued firing, and shattered the windshield. A shard of glass flew into Iggy's eyes, and he immediately began screaming in agony.

"Ah god Fang, my eyes! My eyes, I can't see, ahh, Fang it hurts." He screamed, his voice loud, even above the engine's revs and the gunfire, blood dripping from the wound like water pouring from a jug.

"Just hang on Ig, you'll be fine." Nick tried to reassure him, failing miserably. He put his foot flat on the accelerator and hit the man with a sickening crunch. He rolled over the bonnet and roof, and landed on the floor behind them. Nick checked his rear view mirror, and the man didn't get back up.

The drive continued for another ten minutes. During that time, Nick managed to bandage Iggy's eyes and give him some morphine, after that he fell silent, his heavy breathing the only sign he was still alive. Over the horizon, Nick saw a tank, followed by another. And another. And another. He stopped the car, in case they thought it was a car bomb, and stepped outside. He ran round and picked up Ig, carrying him over his shoulders.

He waved his free arm frantically, trying to get their attention. As the tanks got closer, he realised that they weren't American. A spike of fear shot through him, what if they were enemy? The collum halted and the hatch on the first tank opened. Out of it came a scrawny man, with straw-like auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. He walked over to them.

"All right mate, you look like hammered shit. Need a hand?" His accent was British. Thank god, they were out of that hellhole, but they came out of the south side, the British side, not the north where the Marines were attacking from.

"Thank god you're here man; we could use any help you can give." Nick replied, smiling broadly.

"You the missing yanks then?" The Brit asked. Nick nodded. "Come on, I'll get you both some food and give him," he gestured to Iggy, "some medical treatment. Then I'll get you two out of here. Sound good?" Nick nodded vigorously. The Brit took Iggy and carried him, letting Nick walk freely. He looked up at the harsh Iraqi sun, and smiled.

They were going home.

(Time and Place shift (Tardis Activate)

Max was woken by her phone ringing. Whoever it might be, she thought, is about to get the butt kicking of their life. She picked up the phone and answered in the angriest voice she could make at one in the morning.

"What. Do. You. Want?" It was Ella. She had hardly slept since Iggy went missing, along with a SGT Walker.

"Oh god Max, you won't believe it, turn on CNN now!" She could barely keep the excitement out of her voice. Whatever it was, it was obviously good. Max climbed out of bed, still in the early morning zombie state.

"Ella, do you know what time it is?" She asked whilst walking to her sofa and turning on her TV.

"Doesn't matter, just turn it on!" Max obliged. What she saw made her jaw drop. There was a picture of two Marines, as she recognised the uniform from the last time she saw Ig. They both looked incredibly tired and dirty.

One, who Max noticed was probably incredibly handsome without the dirt, had a cut just above his left eye, and the left side of his face was covered with blood. He had brown eyes so dark they looked black, and short, but unkempt black hair. The other looked thin, with multiple wounds. He had a blood-stained bandage over his eyes, but Max noticed his strawberry blonde hair. That hair was recognisable anywhere to Max. The headline read_ Missing Marines escaped, both alive_. Iggy was alive.

**Author Note: Two chapters in two days, I'm on a roll! Please don't expect this speed with me again, as I'll have other things (and stories) to do. I'm sure you're all praying that there isn't another glossary, and your prayers have been answered. Even though Fang and Iggy are out of Iraq, it doesn't mean that the action will stop. If anything, it'll likely be more dangerous than before. Please keep reading this, and review (angry glare for only 1 review) thank you for that ****Elemental Dragon Slayer and to Kadoodles and Shelsha for either favouriting or following this, it means a lot. That's all from me so, Bradykins out.**


	3. Chapter 3: The First Time

A Different War

Chapter 3: The First Time

Nick was shattered. The month since they returned from Iraq had been a blur. His dress uniform had been worn more times than in his whole career. He'd met the President, who'd awarded him his Silver Star and Purple Heart, the second of which he didn't really care about, seeing as it was for the cut above his eyebrow. The Silver Star made him feel guilty. He abandoned six of his friends to die, why should anyone think that brave?

However, most, if not all of America disagreed with him. They saw him as a hero, for getting both him and Ig out of there alive. At least he never had to pay for drinks, seeing as he now spent more time than he used to in bars. Particularly one called _The Kingston Arms_. It was a very English sounding name, and Nick liked it; it reminded him of the British tank commander who had found them.

Iggy had been blinded by the broken glass, and had left Force Recon. He'd also proposed to his girlfriend, Ella or something like that. She said yes, much to Nick's surprise. He'd thought that once Iggy was blinded, she would leave him, not wanting to look after him. But Iggy had proven to be very independent, and still cooked as well as he used to. He'd also become nearly obsessed with explosives, for some reason.

On top of all this, Nick was still a Force Recon Marine, and he'd been selected for an exchange with the SEAL's, as part of the Naval Special Warfare Command. He still lived at Camp Pendleton though. It was still a better home than the one he grew up in though.

* * *

Iggy was taking him to a skydiving place that he used to go to. Before he was blinded, that is. He worked there now, and the managers were both childhood friends, so he said it would be no problem to get him a discount, even though he could still easily get one anyway, with his war hero status. It really was useful sometimes.

He parked his 1982 Porsche 911 SC Targa in the small gravel car park. It was black, naturally, and had been bought just after he came home. He loved it. A lot. He climbed out and closed the door gently, locking it as he walked over to the main entrance. The clean white sign above read _Sky Ride Industries: Jumping head-first to thrill_. He opened the door, and was greeted by a girl with mocha coloured skin and dark curls of hair. She beamed at him, and introduced herself.

"Hi, welcome to Sky Ride Industries, I'm Nudge, the co-owner of this, would you like to book a jump at all? Or if not, try our delicious café? Or stay and chat? Or-" Then a hand gagged her mouth.

The hand belonged to Iggy. He grinned at Fang and apologised for Nudge.

"Sorry, she kinda gets overexcited a lot. Take a seat." He gestured to a simple swivel chair next to the reception. Nick sat down in it, the cold aluminium slightly lowering with his weight on it.

"Long time no see Ig." He said to his friend. Iggy's grin turned from kind to ecstatic.

"Holy mother, Fang! I didn't think you'd come. Good to see you man." He said, whilst walking over to him to give him a hug. They were like brothers after all.  
"You too Ig, how are you doing?" Nick replied, his face an unemotional mask, as usual.

"Not too bad. Ella helps a lot, and I miss the Corps." He answered wistfully, his pale blue eyes staring but not seeing. Nick thought it was quite unnerving. "But still, life goes on. Come on in, I'll introduce you to the rest of the Flock."

"The Flock?"

"Yeah, it's our name for us as a whole, seeing as we all do skydiving. Makes sense, right?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Nick lied. He followed Iggy and Nudge into a corridor. He heard a woman shout out.

"NO Gazzy, shoot him! Shoot him! We can't lose on this round!" Nick frowned, wondering what on earth was going on. Iggy opened a door and Nick followed him inside.

There were two worn sofas in the pale cream painted room. There was also a solid oak desk, with a HP laptop resting on it, and a king size bed with crimson sheets and pillows. Sitting on one of the sofas was a girl with pale blonde curls and piercing blue eyes. She looked innocent and angelic, like she couldn't harm a fly. Sitting on the floor was a man that Nick guessed was her older brother. He had the same colour hair and eyes as her. He looked like he was during puberty, as he had a little blonde stubble around his jaw line. His face was slightly frowned in either concentration or stress.

Also on the floor was a girl. She was older than the others, looking around Nick and Iggy's age, and had an aura of confidence around her. She had brown coloured hair with golden streaks in it, and eyes the same colour as her hair. She was the most beautiful person that Nick had ever seen. He hadn't felt anything even close to love for a couple of years, but he thought he felt it then.

The boy and girl sitting on the floor were holding Xbox controllers, and madly mashing buttons, trying desperately not to be overran be Nazi Zombies. They were playing split-screen. The pair looked increasingly panicked, and ran away from the oncoming hordes. "Gazzy, use your Monkey Bomb!" The girl shouted, whilst her in-game character, a drunken Russian, sprinted away from the screeching horde.

"I'm all out, you use your M60!" The boy replied even louder.

"I'm reloading, use your L96."

"Seriously, a bolt-action sniper rifle against twenty zombies, are you nuts?" The virtual situation was getting dire now. Nick noticed a mistake the game, Call of Duty: Black Ops, according to the cover, made. The L96 was created during the 90's, a near thirty years after the game was set. Damn creative licence. The girl's machine gun finally finished reloading, and she quickly mowed down the remaining zombies. The boy sighed in relief, and fist-pumped the air. "No one messes with the Gasman! Hoo-ha!" He cheered. The girl on the couch snorted and spoke.

"Gazzy, Max killed the final few that you were failing to snipe, don't steal the credit." The boy looked ready to argue but then Iggy made their presence known.

"Hey guys," he said cheerfully, waving his arms to attract the attention of the room, "I've brought a guest." All eyes than turned onto Nick. The boy seemed to slightly recognise him, but looked like he couldn't figure out where from. So far so good then. "This here is my best friend Fang, who was my squad leader in Iraq, and saved my life more times than I can count. He dragged my scrawny butt out of that hellhole, on his own, being chased by nearly the whole of the insurgent force in the city. He is the bravest man I've ever met, and is still a serving Marine today. May I present to you, Sgt Nick Ride of the 1st Force Recon!" The last part of the little speech was said like a circus master introducing a juggling elephant, or some poor creature.

Nick sighed inwardly, as he hated being recognised for what he did. The group gave him a round of applause. Then the girl, Max walked up to him.

"I thought you'd be taller, Fang" She smirked at him. Damn, she was beautiful.

"I thought you'd be better at Zombies, spray-n'-prayer." That got a chuckle from the whole group. Max held out her hand, and Nick shook it.

"Well then, if you're obviously such a badass, why don't you try and beat me, or are you afraid you aren't the only one with sharp teeth." Another chuckle from the rest of the group.

"Oh, it's on." They were both still shaking hands. They then let go, and each picked up a controller. Nick pressed play on the menu and they entered another round of zombie killing frenzy.

They alternated between players each round, and talked a lot. He found out that the blonde girl is called Angel; an appropriate name for her outward appearance, but inside she was a scheming devil. Gazzy, formally known as The Gasman, was indeed her brother, and was Iggy's partner in pyromaniac-ness. Nudge never shut up, unless she was gagged. That always ended up happening whenever she opened her mouth.

"So Fang, what'll you do now you're out of Iraq?" Nudge asked. It was clear that by the way she asked it that she wanted to see him again, hopefully as a friend as Nick wasn't a relationship sort of person. One-night-stands, that way he couldn't get hurt again.

"Well, for now I've been transferred into the SEAL's," That drew Max's attention for some reason, "but do you mean long or short term?" Fang answered with a question.

"Short term."

"Well, I guess I'll book into the nearest motel and get some rest. But I'll stay here unless you want me to go. For now I mean." He added quickly. Max shrugged her shoulders.

"No, its fine, but you won't stay at a motel; there aren't any for a few miles. You're staying here, end of story." She said firmly, and for some reason Nick didn't want to argue. He simply shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgement, and said a thank you.

* * *

About an hour afterwards, the others left. Iggy said he'd introduce Nick to his fiancée, who was Max's adopted sister. He apparently had been quite down recently, and Nick's visit had cheered him up a lot. It was now just Nick and Max inside. "Enjoy meeting the Flock?" She asked, whilst turning off the Xbox they had been playing on, and placing the TV on some corny horror flick.

"Yeah, actually. I thought you'd be asking loads of stuff about, you know…" He trailed off his answer. Max rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, look you shouldn't talk about it if you don't want to." She said comfortingly. Nick smiled faintly, and nodded thanks. She smiled back, and walked over to a fridge Nick hadn't noticed before. "Besides, Iggy already told me about the funny stuff. Want a beer?" She winked and asked him. He nodded eagerly, alcohol being his favourite way to diffuse tension between strangers. Max threw him a bottle, which he caught deftly. "Nice catch." She said, sitting down next to him and taking a swig of her bottle. Max was sitting a little too close to be normal. On the screen, a stereotypical teenage girl was running in a stereotypical graveyard to stereotypical music. Then her face got eaten off by a werewolf.

"I always hate werewolves. They creep me out." Nick said abruptly.

"Same with me." Max replied, before leaning her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Max didn't know what Fang would think of the move. It was just on instinct, she didn't think at all. To her surprise, Fang cautiously wrapped his arm round her shoulders. She leaned closer into him, and wrapped an arm around his waist. This was the most intimate contact she'd had with a boy for a long time. After what happened, she'd been very wary of boys, but Fang was different. He was quiet, funny, modest, clearly brave, despite his vehement arguments to the contrary. She hadn't even considered his looks yet. Fang was incredibly handsome. That was the understatement of the century. Through his black t-shirt, she could see he had muscular, tanned arms, and his stomach muscles were clearly well defined.

After the film ended, with the werewolf being blown up by a stick of dynamite, but a hand twitching, implying that it's still alive, setting up a sequel; Fang and Max decided to go to bed.

"I'll sleep on the sofa. Thank you for letting me stay, Max." Fang said sincerely. Max shrugged her shoulders.

"It's nothing, but you aren't sleeping there. You can sleep in the bed; I'll sleep on the sofa." She answered. Fang shook his head.

"No, you've already offered me far too much. I'm sleeping on the sofa, and that's final." He said, his voice firm. After that, he lay down on the sofa and closed his eyes. Max was surprised by him, being such a gentleman. But she always won arguments. So she simply walked over and lay down on top of Fang. She heard him chuckle underneath her, before he wrapped his arms around her.

"I get nightmares." He warned.

"Don't we all, sometimes." She replied. With that, they both drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

**A.N: Wow, long chapter alert, sorry about that. It's nearly seven pages on MS Word. Hope you like the Fax at the end. Things will have a bit of a plot twist next chapter, as guess who Fang's partner is in the SEAL's… Anyway, Bradykins out.**

**Disclamer: I own nozzing (in a French accent) but if I did, Nevermore would be 1,000,000 times better.**


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